Schlatfeld Schuft: The Grobel Brothers Ballad
by RedShocktrooper
Summary: Four National troops - a Soldier, a Commando and two Gunners - get lost on their way to Seaside Skirmish. Now, they interfere with other games' plots, in order to get back to the Cyclist's War. Will they succeed, without killing each other first?


_**Schaltfeld Schuft: The Grobel Brothers Ballad**_

_**A Battlefield Heroes Fanfic by RedShocktrooper.**_

I do not own the game(s) in which this fic takes place in. They belong to their respective owners.

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"We're lost, Hans."

This voice was one of three such voices that had been repeating those three words for the better half of the day. Of course, 'better' was subjective in the young officer's mind. Hans re-adjusted his coat and helmet for the umpteenth time, tossing a look back to the ever-annoying voice of his older brother and subordinate, Karl.

"If I hear the words 'We're lost, Hans' again, I'll detain all three of you," the lieutenant said, turning back to look at his squad/family. It wasn't that the were 'like' family – they WERE family. The van Grobel brothers, to be more exact, with an amazing tendency to follow the young senior lieutenant wherever he went – partly to keep him out of trouble, and partly because he ordered them to. "And, undoubtedly, we're still near the village. I mean, look, doesn't this all look like we'll be seeing a lighthouse soon?" The youngest brother held out his arms, drawing attention to the world surrounding them.

Walther looked around, adjusting his garrison cap. "No, Hans, it doesn't. We just passed a windmill, and I really doubt we're even in the Federation any more."

The highest-ranked member of the twins turned to face the second-eldest. "Well, that means we're in Royal Britannia, does it not?"

The two others, Kurtis and Karl, let out a collective groan, as the motley squad of brothers continued walking after the supposed leader. It was at this point that Hans' twin, Kurtis, spotted something.

"Summin' comin'," the Gunner said, looking in some off-beaten direction. The group, save for their Glorious Super-Duper Ultra Radikal Lieutenant, First Class with oak leaves and diamonds, as he so claimed, stopped, looking in the direction of the more sensible of the two twins.

It took a meter or ten for Hans to figure out that the footsteps, save for his own, had stopped, and two gunners and a commando were looking in some random direction, which, so far as he was concerned, didn't have anything but a windmill in it. And they'd seen windmills, and they were not interesting.

"You're listening to a retarded gunner? What foolishness is this?" Hans loudly proclaimed.

"The retarded gunner has better ideas than you, GSDURL1stOLD." Walther thought about the conglomeration of letters and a number at the end of that sentence. His lieutenant pun worked better. "Besides, this is quite interesting."

"It's a damn wind..." Hans stopped mid sentence, jaw gapeing open as he looked at what had caught Kurtis', and also Karl's and Walther's, attention. A beautiful succubus of a woman was standing there, pointing a Commando's rifle, with the scope taken off, at his brothers. Long, gorgeous brown hair fell over a shall, and a head covered with a red headscarf of interesting design. A whistle nearly escaped his mouth, but he contained it, putting on the closest approximation of gentlemanliness as he could. "Miss, might I introduce myself?"

She shook her head. "No. You can tell me what you're doing in Gallia, though."

Hans removed his helmet, and started with, "Miss, I'm Hans van... wait, Gallia?"

Walther chuckled. "Smooth, Casanova, smooth." This prompted both a glare of death at the elder brother, and the straightening of a Garrison Cap. "Miss, my brother, Lieu[-of-brains]tenant van Grobel, got us horribly lost. Now, might you explain, where we are?"

The girl nodded. "Yeah. You're just outside of Bruhl. The Empire just attacked, but none of you really look like Imps."

Karl nodded. "Damn straight, toots. Now, could you also provide us with name?"

She nodded. "Alicia Melchiott. You?"

Walther took control again. "I'm Walther, this is Karl," he pointed to the eldest brother, "Kurtis," he pointed to Hans' twin, also a gunner like Karl, "and Kurtis' twin, Asshole."

Hans responded negatively to the nickname 'Asshole'. "Hey!"

"Oh, sorry, miss. Wrong name. He's Dumbass."

The officer recomposed himself. "Hans. Hans van Grobel."

Alicia sighed. "Oh, boy..."

---End Chapter 1---

**Of course. My Battlefield Heroes/VC Crossover, but not how I expected it to play out. I intend to do other things than just VC with the van Grobel brothers, particularly Lieutenant Dumb- erm, Hans van Grobel.**

**Leave a review. I *might* just continue this.**


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